


The Rabbit with the Red Hat

by nocturnal08



Category: I Want My Hat Back - Jon Klassen
Genre: Attempt at Humor, Buddhism, Communism, Existential Angst, Gen, Nihilism, Subtext, Symbolism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-01
Updated: 2014-09-01
Packaged: 2018-02-15 18:05:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2238384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nocturnal08/pseuds/nocturnal08
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What does it all MEAN? I feel like that forest was full of existential angst!</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Rabbit with the Red Hat

**Author's Note:**

  * For [implicated2](https://archiveofourown.org/users/implicated2/gifts).



He was confused. He left the clearing—and the bear— wondering if he’d been mistaken. Perhaps he had misunderstood the signal. Soon he came across a badger, standing between two large fir trees. The badger was not wearing a hat. “Excuse me, have you seen a rabbit wearing a hat?”

“Don’t talk to me about those rabble rousers!” the badger grumbled. “Rabbits wearing hats? The nerve!”

The badger was not sympathetic to the cause. He could see that now. “Okay, thank you anyway,” he said hurrying on his way. Every so often he glanced behind to see if he was being followed. His questions had made him a target now. There were many in the forest content with so-called “natural selection,” allowing brutal Darwinism to determine who lived and who died. 

He saw the fox and froze. He wasn’t some naïve little forest dweller. He knew how those animals could be. If you were big and intimidating, they would be the picture of decorum and politeness. Little guys like him had to watch their backs or they’d end up as dinner. “Excuse me,” he said, keeping a wary distance. “Have you seen a rabbit wearing a hat?”

“Why do you ask?”

“I was just curious.”

“No. I haven’t seen your rabbit.” The fox’s eyes narrowed for a moment before he blinked and the squirrel scurried away, without saying thank you or anything.

He came to a large tree and scurried up the side, hoping to get a better view of the forest from a higher vantage point. A songbird hopped from one thin branch to the other, sunning her blue feathers in a vain sort of way.

“Excuse me, have you seen a rabbit wearing a hat?” he asked, cautiously peering down from the trees for the scrap of red.

“Where would a rabbit get a hat?” the Robin scoffed, fluffing her feathers. “Unless he stole it!”

His heart thumped in his chest. “Thank you anyway,” he said, quickly scurrying down the trunk, bushy tail twitching with tension. He saw it all so clearly now, the way the forest animals had internalized bourgeois ideals and acted against their own self-interest. Collective action was their only hope to topple the power structures and bring a new paradigm based on equality and brotherhood.

He retraced his steps. Perhaps he would have to try again tomorrow. The sun was starting to sink now. He saw a turtle on top of a rock. “Do you see a rabbit wearing a hat?” he asked anxiously.

The turtle squinted into the distance. “I spent the whole day trying to climb to the top of this rock. Now that I am here, I am still not content. Plus, I can’t get down.”

“I’m very sorry. I am too small to lift you down. Maybe if we all worked together—”

“You’re missing the point. When I was at the bottom of the rock, I wanted nothing more than to climb to the top. But now that I am here, it does not lessen the struggle that is our daily existence. And I'm hungry.”

“Would you like me to bring you some food?”

“Yes, please.”

He left the turtle eating and meditating and found his way to the Warren. The conditions there were harsh, with many families forced to share a few dusty tunnels. Inside it was safe from the screech owls and other predators, though, and known to be sympathetic to the cause. He might have preferred a hollow tree, himself, but his own preferences were not important. The movement was all that mattered.

“Have you seen a rabbit wearing a hat?” he asked an old hare, without much hope.

“A hat, you say?” the hare wheezed.

“Yes, a hat! It was supposed to be the signal that it was time to rise up and fight for equality in the forest.”

“There’s no use fighting, young man. This is the way things have always been and how they always will be. Your petty struggles don’t mean anything in the grand scheme of things.”

“Hmph. Well. Thank you anyway.” He scuttled off, finding a dry spot inside a nearby tree and trying to fall asleep for the night.

“What is the point?” he thought, letting the old hare’s doom and gloom settle upon him. “After all we have suffered, don’t we deserve more? Or are we just inviting more suffering on ourselves? Does any of it even matter? What’s the point in fighting such ridiculous odds?”

He heard an owl hooting. “Who Who Who was asking about a rabbit with a hat?”

He knew he was safe, having climbed in an opening much too small for the night watch. Still, the question and the quiet sweeps through the dark filled him with terror.

“What’s the matter?” asked a small voice. It was a mouse, holding a walnut in his hands as if it were the most precious thing in the world. The regarded each other in the moonlight.

“I am waiting for a sign and I’m not sure if it will come.”

“How will you know it when you see it?”

“It will be wearing a hat.”

The mouse turned the nut over in his hands. “I could get you a hat, if you wanted.”

He wasn’t sure that was what he wanted. He only knew he could not continue like this: with no hat, no signal and no hope. “It’s too dangerous. We should just wait.”

“I know the way.” The mouse handed him his nut. He went to the opening in the bark and poked his head out. Then he scampered away.

There was no sound, except for the occasional whimper and cry in the night. He waited, unable to sleep. When the sun came up to the morning song of birds, there was no sign of the mouse. There was only a small, orange and yellow striped hat there at the base of the tree.

He picked up the orange hat, running a small paw over the soft rim. He put it on his head.

“This hat belongs to all of us.”


End file.
